Something To Believe In
by EmyPink
Summary: As McGee’s world falls apart, is there anyone that can help him pick up the pieces? Written for the NFA Hurt/Comfort Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Something To Believe In **

By EmyPink

_Written for the NFA Hurt/Comfort Challenge _

**Disclaimer:** It has never been mine, so why should it start now?

**Rating:** FR13

**Parings:** McGee/OC, maybe McGiva if you want to see it that way

**Characters:** McGee, Gibbs, Ziva, Jilly (OC), slight appearance from Tony and Abby

**Genres:** Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Tragedy, Friendship

**Warnings:** None

**Word Count: **9,033 words

**Summary: **As McGee's world falls apart, is there anyone that can help him pick up the pieces.

**A/N **The song featured in this story is 'Something To Believe In' by Aqualung.

~*~*~*~

**Chapter One**

_turn out the light and what are you left with_

_open up my hands and find out they're empty_

_- something to believe in, aqualung_

The tranquil and uncanny silence that graced Georgetown University Hospital was broken as a man in a rumpled suit came dashing into the emergency room, panicked and unnerved. Nurse Millicent Hatchet braced herself for another distraught relation. She plastered a reassuring smile on her face as the man reached the triage desk.

"My wife," the man gasped, impacting with the desk and bracing himself with his hands. "My wife. I'm looking for my wife."

"Of course, sweetheart," Millicent replied soothingly. "What's her name, darl?"

The man looked momentarily stunned. "Jilly," the man breathed at last and Millicent waited patiently for the man to elaborate.

Finally he realised that, perhaps, he needed to give a last name. "Jilly McGee. Jillian. Jillian McGee. Her name's Jillian, but everyone calls her Jilly. They should know that. The doctors, I mean . . ." The young man was babbling at a hundred miles per hour.

Millicent just nodded calmly and taped the information into her computer. She was used to upset relatives, and had become well versed the language of the hysterical.

She looked up from her computer and said with a soft and knowing smile, "She's in Trauma One, Mr. McGee."

"Trauma One," he repeated, looking around wildly. He seemed at a loss as to where he should go. Then he spotted the double doors and his eyes widened, and Millicent knew what was going to come next.

"I am sorry, Mr. McGee," she said calmly, "but Trauma is for authorised medical personnel only."

"But, but . . ." Millicent could see the little resolve the man had left drain away. "You-you don't understand. I need, I need to be-be there," he stuttered helplessly.

Millicent smiled gently. "Your wife is getting the best care that she possibly can, sweetheart, I promise. The best thing you can do for her is to stay calm."

"Calm, calm, calm," the man muttered to himself. "How can I be calm when my wife could by dying?!" he yelled at Millicent who barely flinched.

"How about I get an update on her condition for you," Millicent soothed, trying to placate the man. She stepped out from behind her desk, and guided him to a chair by his elbow. "You wait right here and I'll personally get her condition for you. Okay?"

He nodded weakly and Millicent felt her heart go out to the young man; he was about the same age as her own son and she couldn't imagine what it would be like if it were Daniel in this man's position.

"I'll be right back, okay. Don't worry." Millicent could feel his eyes on her as she keyed in her authorisation code and slipped into the trauma rooms.

~*~*~*~

_Timothy McGee looked at his watch and sighed. The coffee machines at NCIS Headquarters were getting their annual maintenance check and this meant that the rest of his team would glare at him until he gave in and "offered" to go and get the coffees. It did not help that there was a massive line-up at the local coffee parlour. _

_McGee sighed again and tapped his foot impatiently. The team would get antsy if they didn't get their daily coffee intake. Then, finally, the line moved and he was one person closer to buy the over-priced coffee. _

_Unfortunately, at the same time, something knocked his arm. He started, then blushed as he looked into the apologetic eyes of a young woman._

"_Oh, I am so, so sorry," she apologised, brushing a piece of hair from her face. She smiled genuinely. "I can be such a klutz sometimes," she laughed. "There's this time I remember when I was totally not watching where I was going and embarrassingly landed . . ." she trailed off, blushing. _

_McGee stood there, unmoving and blinking in apparent shock. The brunette's eyes widened as she realised and apologised, "Oh, you really didn't need to know that, I'm sorry." McGee gaped at her._

_She giggled. "Cat got your tongue, hey?" she grinned and then said, "I'm Jillian Peters, but everyone calls me Jilly."_

"_Tim," McGee finally managed to say. "Timothy. Tim. McGee."_

_Jilly giggled again. "It's nice to meet you, Tim Timothy Tim McGee." _

~*~*~*~

Millicent finally winced. She had, as promised, gotten an update from the doctor treating Mr. McGee's wife, but she didn't think it was what the young man had wanted to hear. Hell, it wasn't what she had wanted to hear. She winced again at the resounding crack and reached down for her intercom.

Once she had told the man that his wife was in surgery and that it wasn't looking good, he had lost it. It was not as if Millicent was unused to such reactions, but his direct show on fierce anger by the innocent young man that could have been her son unnerved her.

And now, Mr. McGee was pounding on the door that lead to Trauma and yelling almost incomprehensible babble. He yelled again and kicked the door. At first, Millicent thought it may have been a quick release of anger, but now, she wasn't so sure.

She had seen many people lose it in her ER; men, women, even children, and frankly, though she appeared used to it, it always unnerved her. Millicent hated that she had to call in security, but the young man was a danger to himself and others. Perhaps, mused Millicent, she should also page Psych.

"Let me in!" he was yelling, slamming his fist against the door. "Let. Me. In. I want to see my wife!" He pounded at the door.

Millicent picked up the phone and dialled security. "Bob, hi. We have another distraught in emergency," she said quickly before hanging up the phone. It wouldn't be long before Bob and whoever else was on duty arrived. Till then, she decided, she should try and resolve the situation herself.

"Mr. McGee," she said, calmly and in her very best victim's voice. He turned on her, eyes blazing and she immediately recognised the look in his eyes; the look of a man mourning.

"I want to see my wife," he yelled, looking pained. "I just want to see Jilly."

"I know, sweetheart," Millicent soothed, but kept her distance, "but she's in surgery."

"You're lying," he yelled back. "She's fine. She's fine. And I want to see her."

Millicent sighed; she hated denial. "Mr. McGee, why don't we . . ."

"No!" he yelled.

"Millie?" a new voice asked and she turned to see Bob and the other security guard, Stan. "You've got a distraught."

Millicent gestured to the man who had resumed banging on the door. "Poor lad, his wife is in a critical condition. Car accident." She paused and added, "She's also pregnant." Bob winced and Stan looked sympathetically at the man.

"Ouch," Bob murmured. "We'll take him outside and calm him down. Hopefully he'll quieten down and we'll bring him back inside."

Millicent nodded. "That's what I'd hoped you would do, the poor man. It's not his fault his wife is in here." Bob and Stan agreed before stepping towards Mr. McGee.

Before they could reach him, however, a hand reached out and planted itself on Stan's shoulder. "There's no need for that," the new male voice said.

Stan and Bob looked up to see an older man staring them down determinately. He fished at his hip, pulled out a badge and flashed it.

NCIS.

"I will take it from here," he ordered, stepping in front of the guards.

"But, sir," Stan started to protest, but the man cut him off.

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living," he snapped, turning on them, "and I think I am better equipped to deal with my agent than a couple of rent-a-cops." Bob and Stan looked slightly miffed at his comment about them being rent-a-cops.

He turned his back on the pair and said gently, "Tim?"

~*~*~*~

_McGee was tracing a line of credit when his cell phone rang. He sighed; he hated to leave a trace while he was in the middle of untangling the web, but the ringing would not let up._

_He picked up the phone and all but barked, "Timothy McGee." _

_There was a hesitation at the other end, then, "Mr. Timothy McGee?"_

"_Yes, I just said that." McGee sounded a little annoyed. _

"_Oh, right," the female voice said. "Well, I am Nurse Jana Kilburn from Georgetown University Hospital . . ."_

_McGee paled instantly. Jilly, he thought fearfully. Please not his Jilly. _

"_I am sorry to inform you, Mr. McGee, that your wife, Jillian McGee, has been involved in an accident," Nurse Kilburn said sympathetically over the phone. _

"_What?" McGee breathed. "How-how bad?" he managed to get out, attracting the attention of Tony, Ziva and Gibbs._

"_I'm sorry, Mr. McGee, it would be better if you could come in and get one of the doctors to talk to you," Nurse Kilburn said calmly. _

"_Just tell me!" McGee yelled, gaining shocked and fearful looks from his teammates. _

_Nurse Kilburn hesitated. "It's serious, Mr. McGee. I think it would be best . . . Mr. McGee?"_

_At Georgetown University hospital, Nurse Kilburn heard the telltale sound of a phone clattering to the ground. "Mr. McGee?" she repeated. _

_Back at NCIS Headquarters, McGee let the cell tumble from his grip. _

"_Probie?" Tony asked, sounding worried. _

_McGee ignored him and instead grabbed the keys to his car, unaware of the tears rolling down his cheeks._

"_McGee!" Ziva this time. _

_He ignored her and clumsily ran out from behind his desk. He shot the others a wild look, before running to the elevator._

"_Probie!"_

"_McGee!" _

_The voices followed him as the doors of the elevator opened and echoed as they slid shut. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_we stumble into our lives, without a hand to hold _

_and any wonder, we need to find a certain something_

_- something to believe in, aqualung_

"Come and sit down, Tim." Gibbs took McGee by the elbow and gently, yet firmly, guided him to a set of the terrible plastic chairs.

McGee looked at Gibbs blankly as Gibbs' hands on his shoulders forced him into one of the seats. Gibbs sat down heavily on the seat to his right.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Gibbs asked, though he knew the gist of things. He needed to hear it from McGee.

McGee opened his mouth, and then shut it numbly. He tried again, and repeated the process. If the situation had not been so dire, McGee would have made a good fish.

Gibbs sighed and tried, "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

McGee shook his head and whispered, "Sorry."

"It's not me you should apologise too," Gibbs noted and nodded towards Millicent, Stan and Bob, who were standing awkwardly near Millicent's nurses' desk.

"I . . ." McGee started, but froze and fell silent. He looked down at his feet.

Gibbs shook his head. "Doesn't matter, I'm sure they've had worse," he told McGee gently. He patted McGee's shoulder and asked, "Have you heard anything yet?"

Immediately, McGee's head flew up and his eyes flashed dangerously. "Heard anything? Heard anything?! How could I know anything if they haven't let me see her?!"

McGee sprung to his feet and advanced on the door, clenching his fits and muttering, "Let me in. Let me in."

Gibbs also jumped to his feet. "McGee, stop," he called out, but McGee ignored him. "McGee!"

Before Gibbs had the chance to defuse the situation, McGee lashed out at the door again and yelled, "Let me in! I want to see my wife!"

As McGee pounded the door, Gibbs hurried over and from behind, took a hold of McGee's wrists. It was a bad move on his behalf.

McGee lashed out at his boss, catching him in the side of the head and sending him sprawling onto the ground. Slightly winded and very shocked that McGee had attacked him, Gibbs remained on the floor for a moment.

"Oh, my," Millicent started and proceeded to hurry over to Gibbs. At the same time, Bob and Stan started to advance on McGee.

"Stop!" Gibbs yelled, slightly breathlessly. "Don't go anywhere near him." And when Millicent tried to get a look at the cut on the side of Gibbs' head, he snapped angrily, "I'm fine."

He pushed away her concerned arm and rose to his feet. For a second, his head swarmed, but it passed almost as quickly as it came and then Gibbs was making his way over to McGee.

"Tim," Gibbs said carefully, as though not to spook his agent. "It's Gibbs." He glared daggers at Bob and Stan who backed away, noting to each other that Gibbs was looking very much like a protective father.

"Tim," Gibbs repeated and approached McGee softly. "Let's stop this now, yeah?" Again, but this time with warming, Gibbs took hold of McGee's wrists and spun the younger man around to face him.

Looking up at Gibbs with broken eyes, McGee said hoarsely and desperately as he looked at the door, "Jilly . . ."

Gibbs let go of McGee's wrists and his arms dropped to his side. He cupped McGee's cheek with his hand and said tiredly, "I know." He paused and then said, "Let's sit down."

Before they could make it back to the seats, McGee let out a dry sob and collapsed into himself. He sank to his knees and slid down the door, muttering "Jilly" repeatedly.

Gibbs sighed and followed his agent onto the floor. He was good when it was victims' families, victims' themselves, but when it came to his own agents, frankly, he sucked.

"McGee," he started gently, "I'm not gonna lie and say that everything's going to be okay 'cause it might not be. But I will say that you can get through this, and you will get through this. I know you can."

Gibbs' words, if anything, only served as a trigger for McGee to bury his face against his knees even deeper.

Then he mumbled, his face pressed against his knees not helping the situation, "I . . . Jilly . . . don't know . . . what to do . . . the baby . . . oh, God."

Finally, McGee looked up at Gibbs; a pained looked on his face. "What if . . . What happens if . . . What . . . I . . . do . . . I?" His breathing grew more rapid.

"Firstly," Gibbs replied, "you need to slow your breathing. Hyperventilating is not going to help the situation." McGee nodded, but made no attempt to follow Gibbs' advice.

Taking charge of the situation, Gibbs looked McGee in the eye and said calmly, "I want you to breathe in, then out." He demonstrated the action as though he was showing a little child how to tie his shoes.

When McGee just blinked and looked at him blankly, Gibbs continued, "Like this, McGee . . . In, then out."

McGee paused for a moment before nodding and following Gibbs' actions. In his mind, he knew very well what he was meant to be doing, it was as though he couldn't make his body cooperate and as such, had to be led.

He breathed in and out slowly, copying what Gibbs had done. His breathing slowed and Gibbs nodded approvingly.

"That's it, Tim," Gibbs encouraged, rubbing his shoulders soothingly. "Just keep doing that."

Slowly, McGee calmed down and was able to look up at Gibbs. "Thanks," he croaked.

Gibbs shrugged. "No big deal." There was a slight pause. "You ready to talk to me yet?"

McGee shrugged back. "I . . . I dunno."

"That's okay," Gibbs reassured him. "You'll talk when you're ready."

"I just want to know how she is," McGee pleaded. "I want . . . I want . . . I want my wife," he finished pathetically.

Gibbs sighed and put an arm around McGee's shoulders. "I know, Tim. I want the same thing every day."

~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later, a doctor walked up to McGee and Gibbs, who were still on the floor.

"Mr. McGee?" he started, looking down at his chart.

McGee scrambled to his feet and nodded. "Yeah . . . yeah, that's me." Gibbs also rose to his feet with slightly more grace.

The doctor smiled at McGee sympathetically. "You are the next-of-kin for Mrs. Jillian McGee?"

McGee sucked in a breath, nodded and squeaked, "Yes."

"Right, okay, good," the doctor said to himself and then said to McGee, "Mr. McGee, your wife is in a critical state . . ."

"But she's alive?" McGee cut in abruptly.

"Well, yes, but . . ."

"That's good, right?" McGee asked, sounding more enthusiastic than ten minutes ago.

"Yes, to an extent," the doctor said quickly and McGee frowned, so the doctor continued, saying, "Your wife is in a very critical condition, Mr. McGee and as such, we need to discuss some of your options as next-of-kin."

"Options?" McGee repeated flatly.

The doctor sighed. "Yes, options. Now, your wife is almost at full term, which makes things slightly easier, yet even more risky – we're not battling to save one life, but two. You have two options, Mr. Gee. The first one is to treat Jillian as best as we possibly can and stabilise the baby the best we can. But I have to tell you now that the chances of both your wife and the baby surviving are slim. Your wife's body is shutting down and soon it won't be able to cope with the baby . . ."

McGee looked horrified as the doctor continued, "Or the second option is that we go ahead with a caesarean and it is very, very probable that the baby will survive." He paused. "However, surgery like that will increase the strain on Jillian's body and it is highly unlikely that she'll survive."

The doctor looked at McGee awkwardly. "Since Jillian cannot consent to anything herself, as next-of-kin you have legal rights to choose how we should proceed. But I can only give you a couple of minutes at the most; we need to move on this quickly. I am so sorry, Mr. McGee, but there is no other option."

"I . . ." Like before, McGee opened and closed his mouth dumbly. He was honestly lost for words. How could this _doctor_ make him choose between the life of his wife, or the life of his unborn child.

"I . . ." he tried again, but the words were stuck in his throat.

"Let him have a minute," Gibbs suggested, lightly glaring at the doctor who'd given his agent the impossible choice.

The doctor looked at his watch. "Two minutes, that's all I can spare." He hurried back into the trauma centre.

Luckily, Gibbs had good reflexes and managed to catch McGee as he tumbled to the ground. With a heavy thud, both McGee and Gibbs landed in an ungraceful heap in the middle of the corridor.

"Boss . . ." McGee whimpered. "I can't . . . I won't . . . I . . . no . . . please, no."

"Oh, McGee," Gibbs said softly, feeling just as helpless as his agent.

"I can't make that choice, boss," McGee murmured, a tear running down his cheek.

Gibbs said nothing, not because he didn't have anything to say, it was because, had he been given the choice to save Kelly all those years ago and still lose Shannon, he would have taken it. And to him, that felt like betrayal.

"What would you do, boss?" McGee pleaded, looking at Gibbs as though he had all the answers.

Gibbs struggled for an answer. "I can't decide that for you, Tim."

"But you could," McGee said hopefully. "If you could save Kelly, would you? Even if it meant that Shannon would die?"

"I'm not you, Tim," Gibbs answered finally. "It's not for me to decide."

"But would you?" McGee pressed through his tears.

"This is not about me," Gibbs snapped and then quickly apologised when he saw the look on McGee's face.

"But . . ."

"Yes, McGee, I would," Gibbs finally muttered. "If I had the chance to go back and save Kelly, I would. I always would."

"So you think I should go ahead with the caesarean?" McGee asked.

"I don't know!" Gibbs shouted and then lowered his voice when Millicent looked at him disapprovingly. "I honestly don't know."

"But . . ." McGee looked like a child looking for guidance. "You always know what to do."

Gibbs sighed and looked sad. "Not this time, Tim. I am so sorry."

"But you're my boss," McGee said in a desperate voice.

"But I'm not your keeper. What would Jilly want?" Gibbs asked.

"I . . ." He paused. "I dunno?" But in his heart, he knew exactly what Jilly would want. "I . . . I can't . . ." His voice broke and he dissolved into tears.

Like he would with Kelly, and in a very rare public show of affection, Gibbs hugged his young agent tightly and allowed him to cry into his chest.

"I can't . . . I won't . . . Jilly . . . please . . ." McGee continued to murmur as he sobbed. Gibbs continued to hold him tightly.

Finally, McGee pulled away, wiped his last tears and looked Gibbs in the eye. "I made my decision," he announced, so sadly that it broke Gibbs' heart.

~*~*~*~

"_Why are you grinning like the cat that's got the cream, Mrs. Jillian McGee?" McGee asked lightly one night, nearly nine months ago._

_Jilly bounced up and down on the spot. "I . . . I . . . I'm . . ." She was so excited that she couldn't say it._

"_I'm what?" McGee joked. "I'm blue? I'm suddenly growing antlers? I'm driving my husband crazy?"_

"_I'm pregnant!" Jilly finally burst out, grinning so widely that it looked as though her face would break. _

"_What?" McGee could barely comprehend what she had just said. "You're what?"_

"_You're going to be a daddy, Tim," Jilly squealed. _

"_A . . . a daddy?" McGee repeated in dumbstruck shock._

_Jilly nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, we're going to be parents."_

"_We're going to be parents," McGee said slowly, as though he were tasting the words. Then he grinned, a grin that rivalled Jilly's own. "We're going to be parents!"_

_He swept Jilly off her feet and spun her in a circle. "We're going to be parents!" he cried again. _

_Jilly whacked McGee's arm. "Put me down, but yeah, we're going to be parents." Her voice rose two octaves as she squealed "parents". _

_McGee put Jilly down and drew her into his chest, one hand wrapped around her shoulders and the other resting protectively on her stomach. _

"_We're going to start a family," he said warmly, looking lovingly at his wife of eighteen months. _

"_I know," Jilly smiled back, kissing McGee on the cheek. "You're gonna be a daddy."_

"_And you, Jils, are going to make an amazing mother." _

~*~*~*~

It was awhile before McGee or Gibbs saw a doctor. Gibbs had sat stiffly on a plastic chair, moving only once to get a coffee. McGee, on the other hand, had paced up and down the corridor, muttering to himself and looking like a broken man.

And then finally, the same doctor that had posed McGee with his terrible choice was back.

"Mr. McGee," the doctor smiled, "congratulations, you're the father of a healthy baby girl."

McGee didn't smile and instead asked flatly, "What about Jilly."

The smile of the doctor's face fell and he sighed. "Mr. McGee, what you have to understand is that your wife was in a very serious condition. The threat to her life and to that of your baby's was very great. As it is, it is a small miracle that we managed to birth such a healthy child. If I'm honest with you, we didn't hold much hope and for that, I am sorry."

"But Jilly . . ."

"I am sorry, Mr. McGee, but your wife's injuries were very severe. We did all we could, but in the end, her body could not withhold the strain any longer. There was nothing we could do."

"So the baby killed her?" McGee commented bitterly as he subconsciously fiddled with the ring on his finger.

The doctor looked slightly shocked and miffed. "Of course not," he replied stiffly. "As I explained, if we had not moved on the caesarean when we did, it was highly probable that neither your wife nor baby would have survived."

"And this is so much better," McGee remarked sarcastically.

The doctor shook his head. "Of course not, but it's better than what we thought."

"Oh, yeah. So much better," McGee said in the same tone of voice. He rebuffed Gibbs' comforting hand on his shoulder.

The doctor shot Gibbs a look and then asked hesitantly, "Would you like to see your daughter, Mr. McGee"

McGee turned away from the other men and started walking down the corridor. Without looking back, he replied with a toneless, "No."

~*~*~*~

"_If something were to happen to me," McGee said one day as he rubbed Jilly's large belly, "promise me that you won't neglect our child in your grief – when my uncle died, my aunt lost interest in her children and it went downhill from here."_

"_I'd never lose interest in my baby, Tim," Jilly said serenely as she watched McGee's palm rub circles on her stomach. "Or neglect her."_

"_Or him," McGee amended with a smile._

_Jilly giggled. "Or him. But it's a girl, I can feel it."_

"_You can, can you?" McGee challenged, tickling Jilly's tummy. "Can you feel that?"_

_She shrieked and pulled away from McGee's evil hands. "Stop it!" she shrieked, giggling. "You know I'm ticklish." _

_When he didn't stop, she muttered, "Evil man." _

_McGee stopped his tickle assault on Jilly for a moment and said seriously, "Promise me, though. You won't lose our child – our children – in grief, will you?"_

_Jilly took McGee's hands into her own. "I promise." She kissed him briefly on the lips and then a thought struck her, "Our children?"_

_McGee blushed. "Yeah, well, you know, maybe in the future. A little brother or sister for Tim Junior there." _

"_Oi, what makes you think it's a Tim Junior? It could be a Jilly Junior. In fact, I bet you twenty bucks that I'm right," Jilly challenged._

_McGee grinned. "You're on, Mrs. McGee. I look forward to taking you money."_

"_In your dreams," Jilly retorted and in response, McGee launched himself (gently) at her and began his tickle assault again. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_press my face to the ground, I've gotta find a reason_

_just scratching around for something to believe in_

_- something to believe in, aqualung_

Two Months Later . . .

_The sun shone brightly against the sparkling white marquee. There was a gentle breeze, but not one that would prove disruptive. It was a warm spring day and everyone had been complimenting McGee as though he had something to do with the weather._

"_Psst, McGee," Tony hissed from his position as Best Man next to McGee._

_McGee, dressed in formal suit and looking slightly pale, turned to look at Tony. "What?"_

"_I've lost the rings," Tony said seriously, with a wide-eyed innocent look on his face._

_All colour drained from McGee's face. "Wha . . ." he stuttered. "But . . . how." _

_Tony shrugged carelessly. "Dunno."_

"_You . . . my . . . oh my, God," McGee whimpered, looking very pale and looking very faint. "I-I think I need to sit down."_

_Seeing McGee's face, Tony hastily reached into his jacket pocket and produced the familiar ring box. "Sorry," he apologised sheepishly, "it was just a little joke."_

"_Joke?!" McGee lowered his voice when his exclamation attracted the attention of a few people nearby. "What kind of joke was that?!"_

"_Uh, a last-joke-before-marriage kinda joke?" Tony offered meekly. He actually did look sorry._

_McGee closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he opened his eyes and smiled at Tony. "It's my wedding day," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to let anything spoil that."_

_Tony nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely."_

_McGee glared at Tony and sighed. "Tell me again why I made you Best Man?_

_Tony grinned. "Because I'm charming, handsome, look good in a suit and is what every self respecting groom needs to make him look good."_

_McGee rolled his eyes. "I should have asked Palmer."_

"_Oi, you like me much more than autopsy boy there," Tony said indignantly. "Who else was there for you in the bad times?"_

"_Or played jokes on him," McGee remarked dryly, "or teased him, or tormented him or tricked . . ."_

"_Yeah, yeah, I get the picture," Tony muttered. "I know I'm not the greatest friend."_

"_Wouldn't have you any other way, DiNozzo," McGee replied lightly, and then added in a lower voice, "And I wouldn't want anyone else besides you up here, Tony."_

"_Not even Gibbs?"_

"_Not even Gibbs – that would be slightly weird."_

"_No kidding, Probie," Tony agreed. _

"_You still call me Probie," McGee sighed. "I'm getting married. And before you, I must add."_

_Tony shrugged. "You'll always be Probie to me." He nudged McGee and then whispered, "It's about to begin."_

_McGee looked up as the music started to play. Jilly's sister and her best friend were gliding down the aisle in pale pink dresses, led by Jilly's little niece wearing a child's version of the bridesmaid dresses. When they reached the altar, Jilly's sister smiled at McGee and took her place. Then everyone stood. _

_Following the path her bridesmaids had, Jilly started down the aisle; the flowing white gown she was wearing making it seem as though she was floating. Jilly caught McGee's eye, smiled and mouthed 'I love you.'_

_He mouthed it back._

_When Jilly finally reached the altar and handed her bouquet to her sister, the minister started. Most of the ceremony passed as a blur until the minister was announcing it was time for vows._

_McGee gulped. He had rewritten and practiced his vows more times than he could remember. He rubbed his hand on his trouser leg as he realised everyone was waiting for him. He took a deep breath and began. _

"_Jilly," he started, but nope, that was wrong, so started again. "My Jilly," he started; that was better. "It has been three wonderful years since we first met; something which I'm not going to forget in a hurry . . ." There was light laughter from the audience members who knew the story of their meeting._

"_And since then, you have helped me grow as a person and as a lover," McGee continued. "Every day I feel so incredibly lucky to have met you, and to know I'll have your love forever. I promise you, Jilly, that I will reciprocate the love that you show me for the rest of my life, and beyond. Today we start our family together and I, with all my heart, promise you that I will do whatever it takes to support and protect our family . . ."_

_McGee could see Jilly tearing up, so he finished, "And I hope you know that my love for you is endless and unrequited, and that I am so proud that I get to share the rest of my life with my best friend and the woman I love. Jilly, thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you." _

"_Thank you, Timothy," the minister said and turned to Jilly. "Jillian?"_

_Jilly stepped forward and smiled serenely at McGee. "Tim, from the moment I first met you I knew you were the one for me. You took me so openly into your heart and loved me for all my faults and flaws. And I love you for that. I love you because you love me for who I am and I love you for being you, for being my rock and my confidant. You have guided and loved me, and shown me that I can be anything I want to be, and I thank you for that."_

_Suddenly, Jilly's smile faded and a sneer appeared on her face. "You said that you'd support and protect our family with all of your heart, and I believed that . . . So why did you let me die?"_

_As though a horror movie, Jilly's face became twisted and grotesque. Blood began seeping from various wounds on her body, and her gorgeous white dress became ripped and tattered. With a broken hand, she reached out for McGee._

"_Why did you give up on me, Timmy?" the zombie Jilly asked. "Did you not love me enough to will me to live?" she accused in a sweetly innocent voice._

"_And what about the family you said you'd always protect," she added, with a sickly smile. "A baby cries for you and you, my dear Timmy, ignore and abandon her. A sweet, innocent baby who's only looking for a little love from her daddy. Why don't you love me enough to love our daughter? Did you even love me at all? Perhaps I would have been better off with someone safe, not someone as cursed as you._

_At seeing McGee's distress, zombie Jilly went for the kill. "You're a failure as a father and as a husband. You failed us, Tim, and to me, that is unforgivable." _

~*~*~*~

The sound of a crying baby in the distance woke him from his feverish nightmare. He heard padded footsteps and then a click of a light being turned on. He heard a gentle voice cooing at the crying baby as he closed his eyes and buried himself deeper under his blankets.

The baby fell silent, and then someone was pushing open is door and making it creak. The same padded footsteps tiptoed into his room and spoke, "McGee?"

He said nothing and moved deeper into his covers.

She sighed and said, almost impatiently, "I know you are not asleep, McGee."

"Go 'way," he muttered childishly and pulled a pillow under the covers. He put it over his ears.

The woman sighed again and asked, sounding resigned and tired, "I think someone wants her daddy."

At the mention of the baby, McGee's ears pricked up and slowly he peeked his head out from the top of his blankets. Standing at the foot of his bed and dressed in a faded t-shirt and track pants was Ziva, cradling the baby in her arms.

She frowned at McGee. "How long do you expect to keep this up? Jilly is dead, I get that. I understand that. But what I do not understand is how you can neglect a child for two months."

"She's had you," McGee mumbled and ducked his head back underneath the covers. Even after a month, they still smelt like Jilly.

"I am not enough, McGee," Ziva said, going over the same argument that they had had every day for the past two month since Ziva had volunteered to give McGee a hand with the baby. What she hadn't expected was to have moved in and become a surrogate parent to the baby. "I am not her mother."

"Might as well be," McGee said bitterly from under the sheets.

Ziva growled impatiently. "Timothy McGee, are you so thick-headed that you cannot see that your own child needs you?"

"She doesn't need me," McGee muttered.

"_She_ does not even have a name!" Ziva yelled, startling the baby.

"Sorry, Mini," Ziva apologised softly and started humming a lullaby in Hebrew. Since the baby did not have a name, Abby had started to call the little girl Mini McGee, because really, despite the fact that the baby was a girl, she looked eerily like McGee had as a baby. The others had caught on and soon the nickname had been shortened to Mini.

When the baby finally fell silent, Ziva tried again, repeating, "She needs her father, McGee."

"Why?" McGee yelled. "Why does she need me? I bring nothing but hurt, nothing but bad things and death. She'd be better off without me."

"Better off? Better off?!" Ziva looked livid. She shook her head and stormed out of the room with Mini, slamming the door to McGee's room behind her and making the baby cry again.

McGee burrowed deeper into his blankets as he heard Ziva coo, "Are you hungry, Mini? Let's get you some breakfast and perhaps then we will go and visit Abby. I believe that she is getting, how you say, bugs in her pants because she has not seen you in two days . . ."

~*~*~*~

As Ziva pushed the pram into the squad room, she was immediately surrounded by Abby and Tony.

"Mini!" Abby squealed and lifted the baby out of the pram, cuddling Mini to her chest. "Who's the cutest little baby?" she cooed.

Tony grinned and tickled Mini on the tummy. "She's going to be such a little heartbreaker," he mused. "That's if she stops looking so much like Probie and more like Jil . . ." he trailed off and winced.

While McGee's colleagues were in no way experiencing the pain McGee was going through, they had all liked Jilly and considered her a friend, especially since she and McGee had been together nearly five years. And as such, the subject was still a little sore between them.

"Sorry," Tony apologised and the once happy mood quickly soured.

Abby muttered something about running tests in the lab and handed the baby back to Ziva before hurrying off. Tony and Ziva looked at each other awkwardly.

"How is McGee?" Gibbs broke the silence from his desk. He offered his arms and Ziva was more than happy to give her boss the baby.

Ziva shrugged. "The same. He has barely left the room, as usual and will eat only when I force him." She sighed. "And he still won't acknowledge Mini."

"Give him time," Gibbs suggested, the same thing he'd suggested every time Abby or Tony or Ziva or Ducky had discussed McGee with him.

"It has been two months, Gibbs," Ziva protested and when Gibbs' eyes flashed dangerously, added hastily, "I know that it has only been _two_ months, but he needs to snap out of it some time. This is not healthy behaviour."

"I agree with Ziva," Tony spoke up. "McGee needs help. And more help than Ducky or anyone of us can give. We're not grief counsellors."

"I survived, didn't I?" Gibbs muttered.

Tony, for once in his life, shot him a glare. "McGee is not you, boss," he snapped. "He doesn't function like you. I'm pretty sure that building a boat in his basement will not help him. He needs to talk to someone."

"He can talk to me," Gibbs said firmly, jiggling Mini up and down in his arms.

"And he's talked to you, has he?" Tony asked in sarcastic anger. "No, because he hasn't talked to any of us. Not even to Ziva who's living with him for God's sake. He needs more than you, boss. More than all of us. He needs someone not so closely related and who's actually trained for this kind of thing!" Tony broke off and looked flushed.

"Tony is correct, Gibbs," Ziva said quietly as Mini started to cry. "He needs help."

Ziva reached out to take Mini from Gibbs and once she had a hold of the baby, Gibbs stormed out of the bullpen, leaving Tony and Ziva alone with a sleepy baby.

"I know some people," Tony offered as Ziva went about settling her in the pram.

Ziva nodded. "Good, give me the numbers and I shall enquire. And now," she said, looking down at the baby. "it is time for Mini's nap."

"Aww, I didn't even get a cuddle," Tony complained lightly.

"Maybe next time, DiNozzo. Or maybe she just finds you boring."

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed quietly and glared at Ziva. "I'm not boring."

"To yourself, maybe," Ziva smirked and picked up the baby bag that had fallen to the ground. "I will see you later, Tony." It was an order, not a statement.

"Yeah, see you," Tony responded. He looked at the path Gibbs took and sighed. "Don't worry, I'll work on him. He's just a little . . ."

"Old fashioned?" Ziva suggested.

"Yeah, that," Tony nodded. "He really does want what's best for McGee and Mini."

"I know, but he is not going about it the right way," Ziva muttered as she started to push Mini's pram. "Get those numbers, Tony. Please."

"I'll call around later," Tony called as the Ziva stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

~*~*~*~

Mini woke up just after lunch. Ziva changed her and then dressed her in the little jumpsuit Abby had given her. McGee still had not risen from the bedroom, and Ziva decided it was time to take action.

"Time to get up," she said loudly. She kept one hand on the pram Mini was in and used the other to yank open the curtains in McGee's bedroom.

"Wha . . .?" McGee asked blearily as he blinked in the sudden sunlight.

"It is time to get up," Ziva repeated and pulled the covers off McGee. He hadn't shaved in a couple of weeks and frankly, looked like death warmed up.

Keeping an eye on Mini and marching around to the side of McGee's bed, Ziva ordered, "Get up. You are going to have a shower and then I have some lunch waiting. Tony is coming over later and I think you would like to look presentable, unless you want to be the butt of Tony's jokes."

She marched back over to Mini's pram, grabbing McGee's arm as she did so, and pulled him to his feet. Unstable, McGee staggered and bumped into the dresser.

"Ouch," he mumbled.

Ziva showed no concern and instead pointed to the en suite bathroom. "In there, now. I will be waiting in the kitchen." She pushed Mini out of the room.

Half an hour later, McGee walked into the kitchen. He was wearing track pants and an old MIT sweatshirt, but at least he had shaved.

"I got you some lunch," Ziva said gently, gesturing to the cold meats and salad on the table. She was rocking Mini's pram back and forth.

"I'm not hungry," McGee replied.

"That may be so, but you still need to eat," Ziva urged, frowning. "I am not going anywhere until you eat something."

Grudgingly, McGee reached out and took a couple of pieces of meat and a few spoonfuls of salad, and put them on his plate. He picked up the waiting fork and shovelled a mouthful of salad into his mouth.

"Happy," he muttered once he'd finished chewing.

"No," Ziva replied coolly.

McGee ate a couple of pieces of cold meat and a few more bites of salad before pushing away his plate. "Ziva, I honestly can't stomach anymore," he said weakly.

Ziva nodded. "It is a start." She looked down at the pram and asked again, "Would you like to hold your daughter?"

For the first time, McGee actually showed a little interest in holding Mini, but shook his head. "Not at the moment."

Ziva's anger rose. She was getting frustrated. "You know," she snapped, "I am the only thing between Mini and Child Services. If I had not offered to stay with you, Mini would have been taken by Child Services ages ago."

McGee shrugged. "Uh . . ."

"Is that all you can say?" Ziva yelled.

McGee's eyes narrowed. "What do you want me to do, Ziva?" he exploded. "What the hell do you expect me to do? My wife is dead, don't you get that?"

"I get that, Tim. I do," Ziva said in quite anger. "But that does not excuse your . . ."

"My what?" McGee yelled. "My grief? My pain? The fact that I'm struggling to wake up in the morning? What?!"

"Don't you get it, Ziva," McGee shouted, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. "Don't you get it? I _failed_ her!!?"

A look of realisation appeared on Ziva's face. "You actually believe that, don't you?" she sighed.

"Believe what? It's the truth!" McGee yelled.

"McGee, sit down," Ziva said gently.

"What?"

"Sit down," she ordered. Mini started crying so she lifted the baby out and cradled her in her arms. "Just sit down!" McGee sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Thank you," Ziva muttered. "Look, McGee . . ."

"What's there to look at? Jilly's dead and that's my fault. I failed!"

"You did not fail, McGee," Ziva said as she rocked Mini. She paused as she tickled the baby, and then said, "You have not failed anyone."

McGee opened his mouth to argue, but Ziva cut him off.

"I know that it feels like you have failed, but Jilly's death was an accident," she said firmly.

"An accident that shouldn't have happened!" McGee muttered, standing up. He started pacing. "I promised her that I'd protect her, protect our family." He laughed bitterly. "And look at what I've achieved."

"It was an accident, McGee," Ziva snapped, making Mini whimper. "I do not know what I can do to make you see that."

"Accident or no accident, she's still dead," McGee mumbled as he paced. "Still dead . . ." He mumbled something that Ziva couldn't make out.

Ziva sighed, exasperated. "McGee, you know my sister died when she was sixteen, yes?" McGee nodded so Ziva continued, "I was with her, when the bomb that went off and killed her. She died and I survived, and for years I asked myself why." She paused.

"And, for even longer than that, I felt as though Tali's death my fault," Ziva said. "I was the older sister. It was my duty, my family role, to protect my little sister, and she died."

"But I realised, finally," Ziva finished heavily, "that it was not my fault. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it. And while Tali's death was certainly not an accident, I did not fail as a sister, just like you have not failed as a husband and as a father."

"But . . ."

"No buts, McGee," Ziva cut in firmly, "if you do not start accepting that you have a child, a little girl that needs you, then you really would have failed Jilly. Would she want you neglecting your child?"

McGee shook his head. "No . . ."

"Exactly!" Ziva exclaimed. "So if you cannot do it for yourself, do it for Mini and for Jilly."

"But . . . but she's _dead_, Ziva," McGee's voice broke. "She's-she's not coming back. She left me. _She left me_."

McGee's legs gave out on him and he collapsed to the ground. "How can I go on, Ziva?" he sobbed. "How can I live without her?"

Gently, Ziva slid off the dining table chair and joined McGee on the floor, clutching Mini. "It is hard, McGee. I know. But it does get better."

"Better?" McGee repeated hysterically. "I fail to see . . ."

"Give it time," Ziva advised. "Just give it time." She paused. "And perhaps, I think, you should maybe talk to someone . . ."

"Like a grief counsellor?"

Ziva nodded. "Something like that. Tony is coming around later with some numbers."

And to her surprise, McGee nodded back, looking a right mess with his tearstained cheeks. "Maybe that's a good idea," he whispered. "I want . . . I want to move on, I do. But I just don't see how I can. It's like I'm, dunno, disrespecting her memory or something like that by moving on."

Ziva shook her head. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to overcome this, Tim, especially for Mini's sake. And you will. It will take time, but it will happen."

McGee offered her a small smile through his tears. "I'm glad you're here, Ziva."

Ziva shrugged, waving away his thanks. "It was either me or Tony," she said lightly. "And I did not think you would want DiNozzo hanging around all this time. Can you imagine?"

McGee laughed. It was weak, but it was genuine and that made Ziva smile. "Oh, I think I can imagine," McGee replied, shuddering.

"I do not have to," Ziva muttered, remembering her undercover stint with Tony.

There was a moment of silence, then McGee asked, almost hesitantly, "Can . . . can I hold her?"

Ziva blinked and tried to hide her surprise. "Of course, McGee. You do not have to ask. She is your daughter." Ziva offered Mini to McGee.

"Uh . . ." McGee looked at Mini before looking at Ziva. "I . . ."

"Here." Ziva showed McGee how to hold Mini properly and then placed the child in his arms.

McGee looked adorably awkward for a few moments, and then gradually got used to the feel of holding a baby.

"I will leave you to it," Ziva smiled. "Call me if you need anything." Ziva left the kitchen.

McGee looked down at the baby in his arms. "Hey," he started. "I'm Tim. I'm . . ." He paused. "I'm your daddy and I love you very much."

Mini looked back at McGee and gurgled happily. McGee tickled her tummy, just as Ziva had done, and Mini cooed again.

McGee grinned.


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

Eighteen Years Later . . .

"Mini, hurry up or we'll be late!" McGee called to his daughter. "Now, Mini!"

A teenage girl with light brown hair hurried down the hallway of the flat she shared with her father. "God, do you have to call me that?" Lily McGee huffed as she came to a halt in front of her father. "I'm not a baby."

"But it's very cute," McGee teased, ruffling Lily's hair.

"Da-ad," she groaned. "You just messed up my hair. Do you know how long I spent on it?"

"Too long," McGee muttered and Lily punched him in the arm. "Hey, what was that for?"

Lily laughed and grabbed her purse from the counter. "You ready or what?"

"I've been ready for ten minutes," McGee sighed. "Could you be any slower?"

Lily stuck out her tongue. "Deal with it, old man."

"I'd watch what you said, Lily Jillian McGee," McGee muttered. "Who pays for the petrol in that car of yours?"

"You, dad." Lily rolled her eyes and clicked open the front door. "Coming?"

"Yeah, yeah," McGee sighed. "I'm coming."

"Excellent," Lily grinned. "I'm meeting Mitch beforehand. He wants to meet you," she said innocently.

McGee spluttered at the thought of having to meet his daughter's boyfriend.

~*~*~*~

When they arrived at Lily's high school, Lily hurried off to find Mitch the Boyfriend.

"You look like someone's stolen your favourite Barbie doll, Probie," Tony commented as he stepped up behind McGee.

"Mini's bring Mitch over to meet me?" McGee looked terrified.

"Now?" Ziva joined the conversation and McGee nodded. This made Ziva laugh.

"Tim, you fight crime for a living and yet meeting your daughter's boyfriend scares you more," she smirked.

McGee nodded. "Too right it does."

"Aw, McGee's just protective," Tony cooed sarcastically.

"Give it a rest, DiNozzo," Gibbs barked, slapping the back of Tony's head.

"Sorry, boss." He rubbed the back of his head.

"I'm not your boss anymore, Tony," Gibbs said, looking slightly amused. "I haven't been for ten years."

Tony shrugged. "Old habits die hard." He grinned at McGee. "Speaking of old . . . How does it feel, McOldie, to know that your daughter is graduating high school?"

"Terrifying," McGee replied immediately. "It means she's all grown up." McGee looked a little sad.

"That happens, McGee." Ziva looked amused. "It is . . ."

"Dad!" Lily called, prompting McGee, Gibbs, Tony and Ziva to turn around.

Lily was pulling a young man with sandy blonde hair, followed by the unmistakable Abby.

"Daddy," Lily started as she stopped in front of McGee, "this is Mitchell Cooper. Mitch, this is my dad, Timothy McGee."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. McGee," Mitch said politely, offering McGee his hand.

McGee gulped. "Likewise," he replied, accepting Mitch's offered hand.

"I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Tony cut in, breaking the handshake. "And just what is your intention with our Lily?"

Lily looked horrified. "Uncle Tony!" she screeched.

"What?" Tony shrugged. "It's a perfectly legitimate question."

Ziva burst out laughing, followed by Abby. "Tony, leave the boy alone." She rolled her eyes. "What if it were Sophia's boyfriend that you were meeting?" she questioned innocently, referring to Tony's own daughter.

"Sophie's not having a boyfriend till she's thirty," Tony replied immediately, causing Lily to cough loudly.

"That's what you think," she muttered to herself.

Mitch tugged on Lily's hand. "It's time to get ready, Lil. The ceremony will start soon."

Lily nodded. "Right. You know where you're sitting, dad."

"Yep, you've only told me a million times," McGee joked.

"Only a thousand, dad," Lily grinned back and rushed off with Mitch. "See you soon."

McGee watched sadly as Lily ran off with Mitch. While the others went to take their seats, Ziva lingered behind.

"I can't believe it's been eighteen years," McGee said softly.

"It seems just like yesterday that we were playing house," Ziva agreed.

McGee sighed. "You know I'm sorry about that. I wasn't exactly in a good place then."

Ziva shrugged. "It is fine, McGee. It was no hassle."

"I don't know what I would have done without you," McGee murmured.

"You would have gotten through somehow," Ziva replied.

"I'm not so sure that I would have." McGee looked at Ziva, who slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Let's go sit down," Ziva suggested, kissing McGee lightly on the cheek. "Mini would kill you if you missed a second of the ceremony."

McGee laughed. "Good point."

Ziva paused and said tentatively, "Jilly would have been so proud of Lily today, and of you."

"Yeah, she would have been," McGee said sadly. "I wish she was here."

"So do I." They lapsed into silence. "We really should sit down," Ziva said after a minute.

"Right, yes, after you." McGee gestured for Ziva to go first.

Pausing, McGee looked up at the sky and said softly, "I miss you." Then he turned and went to join his friends.

And somewhere high above the clouds, a young woman with brown hair looked down and murmured, "I miss you too."

_Finis_


End file.
